Eleven Seconds
by LadyConstellation
Summary: In which Percy is new at Goode, Nico isn't, Annabeth still sees his drool, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare is the Queen of Fortune Cookies. *Mortal AU, features the Seven (plus Grover, Thalia, etc.), rated K plus for minor action violence and possible mild coarse language. UNFINISHED
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the** **Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus is owned by Rick Riordan.**

Chapter One

"Why is he bleeding?" They stare down at the boy lying on the ground. Bianca tilts her head.

"Because he's an idiot," Nico snorts. "A stupid, hopeless, idiot."

"I didn't know that idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose."

"I think it's a new phenomenon." He laughs. "Yeah. I can picture it. _Kids Get Nosebleeds Because of Extreme Idiocy. Scientists Find No Cure_."

"Hey, Nico. Bianca. You guys know I can hear you, right?" They turn back to Percy, his hand covering up a mess of blood. Nico rolls his eyes.

"No, I thought you were earless, dummy."

Percy sticks out his tongue. "I'm fine. It's just a nosebleed. And I'm not a dummy, I'm a stupid, hopeless, idiot."

Bianca laughs. Her little brother glares at her. "What?" she asks Nico. "You said it."

"Just go wash your face, Percy. And change your shirt," Nico says, turning back to his cousin. "Quick, before it gets all over the grass. You know Gaea hates it when we mess up the lawn."

"Crap, Gaea's here? She might just be the strictest park gardener in the history of park gardeners. Oh gods, I see her coming. Crap. Crap, alright. Okay. I'm going."

He gets up and trudges away, wiping his nose on his left sleeve.

Nico shares a look with his sister. "Let's see how long he lasts at Goode without getting himself into idiotic situations," she says.

"He's a stupid, hopeless, idiot. What do you expect?"

They laugh, both knowing that he isn't really stupid, but he is sometimes an idiot, and he's definitely hopeless.

ooo

Percy feels his cousin's hands on his shoulder. "Go on," Nico urges him. "They're not going to hurt you."

Percy rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right. Have you _been_ to high school? Do you know what high school _is_?"

"Have you _been_ to Goode?" Nico asks. "Do you know what the definition of the word 'good' _is_?"

He nods. "Yeah."

Nico claps him on the back. "Great. Because Goode is nothing like that."

They both press their hands to the big metal doors, and with the click of the handle starting a series of movements in the lock, they're inside.

ooo

The first person he talks to doesn't know Nico, but she seems to know the person behind Nico.

"Grover!" the girl calls out.

The boy behind Nico–Grover, apparently–waves back to her. She makes her way through the sea of students, jostling him in the process. She must have felt it, too, because she turns around to Percy instead of continuing to the so-called 'Grover'.

"You're new, right? I'm Annabeth."

Annabeth has blonde hair–which is normal–and grey eyes–which are not. Not blue-ish grey, either. They're an intense, stormy color. Percy isn't sure if he's scared of them, or mystified. Probably both.

"Uh, yeah. I'm Percy Jackson."

"Percy Jackson," she breathes, staring at him with all her might, "you have drool on your shirt."

He looks down at his wrinkled t-shirt, and seeing a spot of _something_ , he realizes this girl–Annabeth–is right. He isn't sure what to say, but he feels his face getting redder and redder, so he looks down at his shoes.

Nico snickers behind him.

Blondie spots him and leans in his direction. "Who's this, Percy Jackson?"

Still a little pink, he tells her that it's his cousin, Nico.

"What class do you guys have next?" Annabeth asks, tucking a loose blonde curl behind her ear.

Nico says that he has science, but Percy isn't sure. "I don't know," he admits. "I forgot."

His cousin nudges him. "That's why we have schedules, dummy."

With a glint in his eyes, he says, "I'm not a dummy, I'm a stupid, hopeless, idiot."

Annabeth hands him a paper he hadn't even noticed he's dropped. "Okay, stupid, hopeless, idiot," she says, smirking, "let's see how well you can survive a lunch period at Goode. You'll see my table in the corner, okay?"

"Um, yeah. Okay."

ooo

Math has always sucked, but Algebra is worse.

Mrs. Dodds (Percy isn't even sure why anyone would marry her, but she is a Mrs.) already hates him, even though he hasn't said a word to her. Maybe she can just _tell_ that he's bad at math. Maybe she sees the look in his eyes that means he's so bored, he might just fall asleep. Whatever it is, she hates him.

"Mr. Jackson!" she bellows, clutching her stick of chalk so tightly it starts to crumble. "You haven't answered a single question this morning. Does that mean that you've already covered this subject?"

He looks up from his empty notebook and his perfectly sharpened pencil with a chewed up eraser and frowns. "No, I–"

"Perfect!" she chortles, strands of grey hair slipping out of her bun. "Why don't you come up and answer this one?" she asks, scribbling a new problem onto the big, green, chalkboard.

He walks up slowly, so slowly, that she tells him to hurry up. He hears some kids giggling, others looking just as bored as him. The white chalk dusts his fingers, and powder falls off of the edges when he writes a, slightly crooked, equal sign. The problem makes his head spin. Numbers and letters seem to be moving around and changing place.

"Mrs. Dodds!" a boy yells out. Percy spins around, spotting the boy that Annabeth had been waving to earlier. "Mrs. Dodds!" he calls again.

"What _is it_ , Grover?"

"The bell is about to ring. Can we start packing up?"

She checks her watch and nods, scowling. "Alright. You may be seated, Mr. Jackson."

When the bell does ring, its sound peeling through the classroom, everyone jumps out of their seats and rush to the door, sporting large heavy binders. Grover's waiting for him, smiling slightly.

"Thank you."

"No problem, Percy. She's always like that."

"Is she even human?" he jokes.

Grover laughs. "No way. She's definitely at _least_ part monster."

ooo

When he does find Annabeth's lunch table, there are more people than he would have expected there to be.

A girl with hair the brightest, reddest, bushiest hair waves at him. She's holding a pile of fortune-cookies, each one neatly inside their own plastic packaging. Percy shyly waves back.

"Sit down!" Annabeth tells him, pulling out a chair next to her own. The metal legs screech loudly on the cafeteria floor.

He lays his tray down at the table and sits, even slowly than he had walked to the chalkboard in Algebra.

"This is Percy Jackson," Annabeth tells her friends. "Percy, these are my friends."

"Hi, friends," he says.

There's a Piper and a Leo, who are seated next to each other. There's a Frank, who's a little more timid than the rest, and the redhead turns out to be named Rachel. Apparently she's the queen of fortune cookies. Grover's there, too, in a Rasta cap and crutches leaning against his chair. The fall down multiple times, and every time he just picks them up and leans them on the back of his chair again.

Then there's Thalia and Jason Grace, and Hazel Levesque, all of whom Percy knows. Of course, he hadn't known they went to Goode (Nico had, for some reason, neglected to tell him that), but it makes him feel a little better to have three more cousins at school. Hazel was Nico and Bianca's half-sister, and even though they didn't look the same or have the same mother (unlike him and Bianca), they were close.

"Perseus!" Thalia exclaims. "You didn't tell me you were coming to Goode!"

Rachel spits out her chocolate milk. "Did you say _Perseus_?" she snorts. Thalia ignores her.

He likes them all.

He's never really had friends before, except for his baby brother, Tyson, and his mother, but neither can really be considered his friends.

When they're all packing up their things, a group approaches the table. The boy leading them has golden hair and a long scar along his face. There's two girls behind him. One is beautiful but nasty at the same time, and the other looks like someone's sprayed liquid cheetos all over her face.

"Who's this?" the boy asks Blondie. "A new kid?"

She doesn't answer. She doesn't look at him. For a moment, she doesn't even breathe. No one at the table does, until Frank squeaks, "Please go away, Luke."

But he doesn't seem like he wants to. Neither do the two girls by his side, both smiling. They pull up chairs and sit down on either side of Percy.

"I'm Nancy," Cheeto-Face says, "and that's Drew."

"Um, hi."

He stares at his tray so hard, he thinks it might explode. He concentrates in the ridges and the carvings in the plastic. He looks at the logo on the side as if it is the most interesting thing in the world. Right now, it just might be.

They tease, too. They laugh at Annabeth and at Rachel and at Jason. When they dump a full carton of skim milk (which, at least in Percy's opinion, is the single most disgusting thing on the planet) on Hazel's head, Percy realizes he's had enough. And suddenly, his fist is in Luke's face, and then Luke's on the ground, and the whole cafeteria is staring at them in their little corner.

The rest of the table is staring at him, too.

But the difference is, they're smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus are owned by Rick Riordan.**

 **(Full A/N at the bottom.)**

* * *

Chapter Two

" _Percy!_ "

If Percy's learned anything over the past seven years of having a brother, it's that small children are easily excited. He isn't sure why anyone would be so happy to see him come home from school, but Tyson always is, and he always smiles wider than it should be possible.

" _Percy!_ " he repeats.

"Hey Tyson."

Tyson is sitting by the kitchen counter holding a spoon and a jar of peanut butter. He's also seated next to, what seems to be, a strange drawing of a green woman. Percy drops his bag down by the door and kicks off his shoes, wandering around the house looking for his mom who, eventually, emerges from her office and enters the living room.

"Oh, Percy!" she says. "I was just finishing up a chapter. How was your first day?"

He slumps down onto the couch. "My math teacher hates me," he tells her, frowning. "And I'm pretty sure the girl who sits next to me in History was wearing only one shoe."

"I'm sure your teacher doesn't _hate_ you."

"You haven't seen her."

"What about the other kids?" she asks, putting her hands in her pockets. "Nico and Bianca go there, right? Did you make any friends?"

Percy pauses. "Um," he says. He rubs the back of his neck nervously. "I think so. I mean–I sat with this group of kids at lunch. They were pretty nice. Nico and Bianca go there, and so do Hazel and Jason and Thalia." He looks away, starting to fiddle with his watch. "And, uh, that's it."

"Percy..."

He takes a deep breath and turns his head. Tyson is still in the kitchen. His hands are coated in peanut butter and he's dumped a box of crayons beside him. And he's okay. He's fine. Because he doesn't have a stupid temper that can't be controlled.

"I punched a kid."

Sally knows the routine. This has happened before. She's supposed to yell at him, to punish him, something. _Something_. But she doesn't. And Percy knows that.

She gives him a sad look, one that Percy can't stand. It makes shame rise up in him. But she gets him. She knows him. And even though she'll give him that whole speech again–the one about learning to control his temper, and that he should apologize to the kid he hit–she knows it wasn't his fault, and the kid probably deserved it.

This time, she's quiet for a few moments. "Who was it, Percy?"

"Who was what?"

"The kid you punched."

There's a long pause. He doesn't have to think about his answer; he can easily recall the kid's name, and they both know it. Percy fidgets with his watch again, trying to distract himself. Finally, he says, "Luke. He-he was teasing my friends."

His mother smiles sadly. "Dinner's in the fridge if you're hungry."

His gaze shifts from his lap to Sally's blue eyes. "I'm sorry," he replies. "I didn't mean to...I wasn't trying to punch him. It just _happened_. I tried to do that thing you taught me, with the numbers. I was trying to count to ten but I got to three and just lost it. I don't even remember doing it, I just remember seeing Luke on the floor and..."

She puts a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers are warm and soft and Percy wants to break down because he's just so _sick of it_. He's sick of all this fighting. He's sick of detentions for things he didn't do, suspensions for things he wished he hadn't done. He can't even remember the amount of times he's been expelled. But he was hoping, he was really hoping, that something would be different at Goode.

Maybe it still could be.

It takes him ten more minutes to realize that he called the kids at his lunch table his friends.

ooo

The second day of school is sunny and warm. Students eat in the courtyard, on the grass, spread around under trees. Luke didn't show up today, for whatever reason. It's fortunate, but obviously not a coincidence, and Percy knows something is bound to go wrong. No one's said a word to him about it all day. He knows it's unlikely that the rumors and gossip have died down already, but he wants to believe it.

Neither Nancy nor Drew have approached Percy at all, even though they both sit behind him in Language Arts. He can hear them whispering behind their notebooks during silent reading time. They don't mention the incident yesterday but maybe they're trying to avoid it. Maybe they're pretending that it's never happened at all. Like that time several years ago when Tyson had an accident on his first day of preschool. It was never brought up in the Jackson household. Not by Sally, not by Tyson, not by anyone. But they all knew it had happened.

He's sitting alone at one of the tables, not even really eating, when Jason runs up to him with a paper in hand. He shoelaces are flying as he runs. He seems like he's about to trip, but he does't. He just keeps running.

"Percy!" he calls out. "I have something for you!"

Jason catches his breath, palms on his knees. His blonde hair looks golden in the sun as he hands Percy the paper. It's bright blue and smooth between his fingers, creased where it was folded into squares.

"It's a flyer for swim team tryouts," Jason explains. "I just thought, because you like to swim, that you might like to try out. Maybe. I'm not on the team, but I'm pretty sure Frank is. Possibly, I'm not sure. You'll have to ask him." He sits down on the bench next to Percy. "You know Mr. Hedge? The P.E. teacher?"

"Yeah. The one who calls everyone 'cupcake'?" (It made Percy wonder how much Mr. Hedge liked cupcakes, but he wasn't about to ask.)

"That's him. He used to be the swim coach, but it's some other guy now. Anyway, gotta go, but keep this." He speaks so quickly, he words slur together. Getting up, he adds a rushed, "Bye!" before running back into the building.

Percy folds the paper up again and tucks it into his pocket, but not before reading the coach's name.

Some dude called Poseidon.

* * *

 **Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed! I didn't think anyone would read this story, and it really made my day. If you have any criticism or corrections, feel free to comment that.**

 **I probably won't be updating everyday, but I am trying to as often as I can.**

 **~ LadyConstellation**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus are owned by Rick Riordan.**

 **(Full A/N at the bottom.)**

* * *

Chapter Three

It takes Percy eleven seconds to acknowledge the fact that there's someone in his locker.

 _One._

He's fiddling with the lock. The third number for his combination is either a twelve or a twenty-one, and he's locked the slip of paper with code written on it inside his locker.

 _Two._

His finger slips. The locker doesn't open. He thinks of kicking it, but decides against the idea when he spots a teacher walking down the hallway.

 _Three._

There's a click as the door swings open. The metal is cool against his fingers.

 _Four._

He takes off his backpack and sets it on the ground, unzipping the biggest pocket and removing his math textbook.

 _Five._

He puts his lunch money in the pocket of his jeans.

 _Six._

Removing a notebook and a pencil case from his bag.

 _Seven._

His binder.

 _Eight._

Percy wonders if the bell has rung yet. He doesn't have a late pass, so if it has rung–

 _Nine._

Checking if he has everything he needs. He doesn't.

 _Ten._

One more notebook.

 _Eleven._

He looks into his locker, about to put his bag inside, and _that's_ when he notices someone crouching over his science notes.

" _Nico_?" he says in shock. "Um, what are you doing?"

Nico looks up from his phone, where he's scrolling through a string of text messages to someone called 'Will'. The light from the device is bright on his face, and he looks almost ghostly when he smiles.

"Oh, hey," he replies nonchalantly. "Sorry, you need anything from here?"

Percy blinks at his cousin. " _No, I'm fine, thank you. And I'm not gong to ask why you're sitting in my locker._ "

He nods. "Sarcasm, I see." He turns the phone off, causing the light to stop glowing on his face, and steps out of Percy's locker. "Well, I had to text someone. And there was a teacher in the hall. You know the 'no phones at school' policy."

Nodding, Percy asks, "Who's _Will_?"

Nico turns bright red, especially in the ears. He nearly drops his phone as he tries to put it in his pocket. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he says, his voice cracking.

"Yeah right."

Percy shoves his bag and jacket into the locker, as well as the swim team flyer before locking it again.

"Swim team, huh?"

"Jason gave it to me. You know how he is."

"How is he?"

"Very sporty."

"That comes from his dad. I'm pretty sure that side of the family is obsessed with being athletic."

 _That comes from his dad._

 _His dad._

 _Dad._

Percy doesn't have a dad. That's the way it's always been–and as far as he's concerned, that's the way it'll always be.

He knows he's supposed to be mad. Sixteen years and his father hasn't reached out to the Jacksons once, just like he hadn't kept in touch with Tyson and his mother. (He was Percy's half-brother, but most of the time they both forgot.) Sixteen years and he hasn't even tried to pick up the phone. He hasn't sent a letter. He hadn't even said goodbye.

From what Percy knew, it had gone something like this:

 _Dad: I'm going out to sea, but I'm not going to tell you until a week before I leave._

 _Sally: K. And remember to meet your newborn son when you come back!_

 _Dad: Haha, actually, I'm not coming back. I'm going to get lost on my epic boat journey and never come back. I won't meet my kid ever. I'll just go and have a new son and then leave again. Just like I always do._

Okay, so maybe Percy is a little mad.

He left–he left them, and he forgot about them. He went and had a new kid. Not that Percy isn't happy Tyson was born, but his dad is–was–obviously _alive_. Couldn't he have stopped by once? Is that too much to ask?

But he's okay.

He's fine.

ooo

Annabeth sets her tray down next to his during lunch.

"Jason says you might try out for swim team."

Percy shrugs. "It's not a big deal."

"I'm trying out, too," she says. "My mom hates the water, so we don't go to the pool often. I thought it would be some cool practice."

"I guess so."

Annabeth ties her blonde hair up into a ponytail. "What's wrong?" she asks, noticing his frown. "Is everything okay?"

Percy nods. "Oh, yes. Just fine."

He's fine.

He's just fine.

ooo

The girl in History still only has one shoe.

Percy doesn't ask about it.

ooo

They're getting ready to leave for the day when someone yells, " _Wait! Watch out!_ " just as a pack of fortune cookies flies through the air.

Rachel comes running after it, her bright green eyes shining. Her mess of red hair is blowing in the wind, but she doesn't seem to mind. Scooping up the bag, she says, "Sorry, Percy. I didn't mean to–you know."

He looks down at the fortune cookies. She has so many, it's weird. He wants to ask her why she has them, but he can't seem to find his voice.

Rachel pulls a tissue out of her pocket and blows her nose. "Allergies," she explains.

Eventually, he asks her, "What's with the fortune cookies?"

She looks down at the plastic wrapping in her hand, thinking for a moment. Maybe she doesn't have an answer, or maybe she doesn't know how to say it. Maybe she just really likes fortune cookies. It takes her eleven seconds to come up with something to say.

"I like to tell to tell the future. I think of myself as Goode High's Oracle." Looking down at the cookies again, she asks, "Do you want one?"

"Are your fortunes right? Like, do they come true?"

Rachel nods eagerly. "I hope so. I haven't been wrong yet."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, I'll have one," Percy says. "Please," he adds.

She fishes through the bag and hands him one, the wrapper crinkling in his fingers. "One fortune cookie, for Mr. Percy Jackson."

He cracks it slowly, the sweet smell filling his nostrils. He holds the slip of paper delicately.

 _Paul Blofis._

"What does it say?"

"Just 'Paul Blofis'. Is that even a fortune?"

"Everything is a fortune, Perce."

ooo

He finds out about Paul Blofis over dinner.

The phone rings loudly. His mom jumps out of her seat smiling to herself. "I'll get it," she tells them. "You two keep eating."

Tyson returns to his sandwich immediately, but Percy doesn't. He watched her move to the landline and take the phone off the charger. It continues to ring loudly until she presses the 'talk' button. The conversation isn't interesting, at least not to Percy, until she says:

"Okay. Talk to you later, Paul."

He head shoots up. Percy can hear his neck crack and his mother hangs up.

"Who–"

"Just a friend from my English class. His name is Paul Blofis."

For everyone's sake, Percy hopes that Paul is nothing like Gabe.

 _Well, there's already one difference_ , he feels himself. _Paul's alive._

 _Gabe isn't._

* * *

 **Thanks again to anyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited. (And thanks for reading!) Any** **criticism, corrections, or suggestions are appreciated.**

 **~ LadyConstellation**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus are owned by Rick Riordan.**

* * *

Chapter Four

Annabeth Chase is standing outside the science room at four in the afternoon, and Percy isn't sure why.

"Detention?" she asks him.

Percy nods. "I think Mr. D just hates me."

"Mr. D hates everyone."

"Why are you here?"

She flicks a curl out of her grey eyes and frowns. "Same as you, though I honestly have no idea." Annabeth pauses. "Luke's in here with us. He punched some kid."

Percy chokes on his own saliva. "No way," he groans. "The one time I get detention–okay I lied, I've gotten loads of detentions, but come on! _Luke_ ," he spits, "is a jerk."

She nods. "He's always been one, Seaweed Brain," she says smiling.

"I'm sorry, did you say ' _Seaweed Brain_ '?" he asks incredulously.

"Possible swim team member. Not the brightest kid. Hence, Seaweed Brain." Annabeth laughs like she hasn't just insulted him.

He takes a deep breath and turns away from her, anger bubbling in his stomach. "If you're trying to call me stupid, don't." He looks down at his shoes, then straight into her eyes. "Just because you think you think you're some type of genius, doesn't mean–"

Mr. D strolls up to them and shoves them into the classroom. "Be quiet. Sit down. Don't bother me," he says when explaining the rules. "That's it."

Percy doesn't want to fight with her. He likes Annabeth. She's nice and smart and _fierce_. But what she said wasn't okay.

"Percy," she frowns, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean like that. You're right, that wasn't okay of me. And I know I'm not a genius, I just." She sighs, her voice starting to crack. "My mom puts so much pressure on me. I try so hard and I'm still not–" she looks up to a bright light, trying to stop the tears pooling in her eyes from shedding. "I'm sorry."

He puts a hand over hers. "I shouldn't have taken it like that." Breathing in, "I-I'm sorry, too." He grins. "Hey, now that I have a nickname, you need one, too."

She wipes a hand over her eye, smiling slightly. "Like what?"

"Bananabeth?"

"No."

"Annie?"

"No!"

"Beth?"

"No."

"Wise Girl?"

A stretch of silence.

"Yes? No? Maybe?"

"Yes."

The door bangs open and Luke struts in, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He's smirking, as usual, and the scar across his face gleams in fluorescent lighting. He dumps his things down on the desk next to Percy's.

Percy doesn't want to fight. He doesn't want to yell at Luke for being a jerk, and he doesn't want to punch anyone again. Maybe he isn't so bad, maybe–

A pencil tip hit's Percy's cheek, scratching the surface of his skin.

He tries not to glare at the other boy, but finds it difficult. He can see Luke smiling out of the corner of his eye. Annabeth clutches his arm. She's warning him. She holding him down. She sending him a message in words she won't say out loud:

 _Don't do it._

Mr. D isn't noticing a thing, of course. He seems to be scanning a magazine of gossip. Or wine. Or possibly gossip about wine. (Percy can't read it from this far away.) He slowly turns the page and looks up just as Luke unzips his bag.

Percy rips a paper out of his binder and scribbles on it:

 _Hey, Wise Girl, wanna go home? Go anywhere, really. I bet we can complain to the principal that we were unfairly put in detention._

 _Were we?_ she responds below his messy words.

 _Tell me one thing you did wrong enough today to get detention._

 _I see your point, Perce._

 _We shouldn't be doing this._

 _It was your idea._

 _You shouldn't be backing me up._

 _But you're right._

ooo

Percy _was_ right. The principal lets them go.

"Have you always been like this?" Annabeth asks.

"Like what?"

"Do you always do what you want?"

He ponders this, finally replying with, "Not if it hurts anyone else."

"Good." She nods, pulling a hoodie over herself as they walk down the pavement. The air is cool and crisp. Their feet make loud sounds on the ground. They are alone.

"Good? Why good?"

"Because I do what I want, too."

ooo

They end up in some coffee shop. And who else is there but Sally Jackson and some man Percy's never seen before in his life.

It hurts for a moment. Agony in his chest and in his arms and in his legs. And he realizes–this man looks like him. Just. Like. Him.

Annabeth is at the counter getting their drinks. His mom doesn't notice him, but the Mystery Man does. He does, and his face drains of color. His black beard seems even darker in contrast. His green eyes are suddenly _greener_. His jaw hangs open, mimicking Percy's own facial expression. Sally follows the man's gaze to–

Percy.

Her face is pale, but her ears are red.

"Oh, Percy, this is Poseidon–the new swim coach at your school." Her voice wavers.

He has no doubt she's telling the truth.

But he also has no doubt she's leaving something out.

ooo

Annabeth sees him standing there. She sees him looking shocked, if not completely terrified. Something's wrong. Something's wrong. Something's wrong.

She wants to ask him, but he turns to leave.

"Percy, wait!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus are owned by Rick Riordan.**

 **Full A/N at the bottom.**

* * *

Chapter Five

Deep down, Percy knows exactly who Poseidon is. He just doesn't want to say it.

Maybe he's afraid. Or angry. He knows he's angry. This man has the nerve to–to leave them behind for his new life. He left Sally. He left Percy. He even left freakin' Tyson. _Tyson_!

It starts to rain. Of course it does. Percy's hair is pasted to his forehead, and his eyelashes catch drops of water, one by one. The rain is cool on his skin, but heavy on his clothes. He hears footsteps behind him, and then a hand's on his shoulder.

Annabeth.

"I brought your coffee," she says, sitting down on the curb beside him. "Do you still want it?"

He nods his head and takes the cup, but doesn't drink anything. The scent of coffee calms him, and for a moment, he completely forgets about _stupid Poseidon_ and _stupid swim team_.

Coffee drips onto his fingers. He feels sticky and wet and tired. So, so, tired.

"Percy, who are those people?"

He coughs into his arm. "I'm not sure anymore."

"Are they your mom and dad?" she questions. "Your dad looks just like you," Annabeth adds.

"He's not my dad. I mean, he is, but–no, he's not."

"I don't understand."

"I've never met him before."

He hears her shock when her breathing becomes uneven for a moment, a large gasp escaping her lips. "I'm sorry–"

"I thought he was gone," Percy continues. "All my life, the only thing I've ever known about him was that he went on some fishing trip and never came back. A few years after that, his new girlfriend or wife or whatever give birth to my half-brother, Tyson, and now we live with him. And not once, _not once_ , Annabeth, has he ever contacted a single one of us."

"Did your mom just tell you about him?"

"She didn't have to. It's pretty dang obvious who he is," he mutters.

"I think you should talk to him anyway, Percy. No one said you have to _like_ him."

"I guess so."

ooo

Poseidon watches the door slam shut as the boy races outside, followed by a blonde girl around his age.

"That's Perseus," Sally explains.

"That girl called him 'Percy'," he replies, flabbergasted.

"Everyone calls him that."

No one says anything for a very long time.

"He hates me," he tells her. "I know he hates me." He frowns, wiping something out of his eyes.

Sally looks down at her feet. Yes, he's right, of course, but she's not about to tell him that.

"He's beautiful," Poseidon says out of the blue.

She nods. "He really is."

ooo

His mom hugs him tightly when he comes back in. He feels her breath warm on his ear.

" _I'm sorry_."

Poseidon is still pale and his mouth is still open, but he is smiling now.

"Um," he says awkwardly. "Um, hello, Perseus!" He laughs awkwardly.

"Hi."

The worst thing is, Percy can't help but like him.

ooo

Percy doesn't tell Tyson.

Percy makes him macaroni and cheese, Tyson's favorite, for dinner. He puts a movie in the dvd player. He gives him a bath. He tucks him in for bed. But he does not tell Tyson about their dad. And he isn't going to.

He's afraid. He's afraid and alone and tired.

Being afraid is like having your feet glued to the ground. You want to move, but you suddenly find that–guess what?–you can't.

What is Percy afraid of?

Bees. Bronchitis. Not death–he'd never want to be immortal. Exams. Teachers. His dad. He's definitely afraid of interaction with his dad.

His dad, it seems, is nice enough. He's funny and kind. He's a pretty chill dude. He had good reason for leaving, apparently, but he wouldn't specify what it was. He likes to swim–that is why he is becoming a swim coach–and he likes fishing. He wears weird shirts with odd flower prints and the only type of shorts he buys is Bermuda shorts. His shoes of choice are flip-flops, and like Percy, he didn't enjoy school as a kid.

They're similar in many ways. In many ways, but one.

Percy would never leave. Not Sally, not Tyson.

He wouldn't leave his family behind.

* * *

 **Thanks to all the readers, reviewers, followers, and people who favorited! Sorry this chapter was so short. Any comments are appreciated. :)**

 **~ LadyConstellation.**


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